


A Day For Caboose

by Churbooseanon



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, day in the life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 06:30:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4009462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Churbooseanon/pseuds/Churbooseanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day in the life of Caboose where he sees all his Blood Gulch friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day For Caboose

**Author's Note:**

> For Noconceptoflife on tumblr.

The bed is cold when he wakes up. Cold and a little empty and that’s okay. Morning is here and bed is not for morning. The bed is for sleeping and with morning light peeking through the windows of the base (Caboose is always confused that no one else can tell the difference because morning light is cheerier), it is time to be up and about and very much involved in the day and the wonder of the world. Caboose throws back his blanket and bounds out of bed, quickly gearing up to start another, wonderful, bright and sunny day. 

Tucker is in the kitchen. Tucker is always in the kitchen first thing in the morning. Church never is, or course. Church is never anywhere first thing in the morning, but Caboose is okay with that because Church is really terrible with food and Tucker is really, really good at pancakes. Caboose loves pancakes, but he’s not allowed to do things that have fire, so he has to sit himself down at the kitchen table and watch as Tucker hums and dances and sings in only his pants. 

“What do you want for breakfast?” Tucker calls over his shoulder, not even looking back from the stove. It’s okay, Caboose doesn’t mind. He knows that Tucker knows he is there because his boots make all stompy noises on the loose tile by the door so Tucker always knows. 

“Uh, eggs?” Caboose teases. 

“Dude, you know we haven’t seen an egg, or anything that looked like a chicken, in so long,” Tucker laughs like he does every morning, and Caboose thinks he’s probably smiling. Tucker has a great smile, like all his happiness is trying to come out in one sunny motion. 

“Then pancakes would be nice. With cinnamon.”

“No better way to have pancakes,” Tucker agrees. 

Caboose knows his job now is to sit there and be patient, because otherwise he has a problem with things burning and things burning is always wrong. 

“So, you bored?” Tucker asks, and when Caboose nods a weird bowl with a pointy bit in the middle shows up and oranges cut in half are placed in front of him. 

“There,” Tucker says. “You make juice and I’ll make food and then…”

“And then?” 

Tucker looks at Caboose and Caboose can see the smile in his eyes under the less than happy look. 

“And then it’s the same fucking thing it is day in and day out…”

The same thing they do day in and day out, of course, is that recon. Lots and lots of recon. It means spying on the reds which Caboose doesn’t think is very nice, but he does it anyway because well, that’s what Church says they have to do. Tucker always thinks it is best to send of Caboose, because he’s ‘disposable.’ Whatever that means. So when they say it’s time Caboose doesn’t bother to wait until Church asks for volunteers and then plays the game where he points his gun at them until someone says me. Church doesn’t even get to finish asking before Caboose is setting off, rifle in hand, singing a song to himself. 

Mister Sergeant Sir is where he always is: standing next to the big cat-car, talking to the angry robot guy. Caboose really likes the robot, because he reminds Caboose of Church. They are both just so very nice, the best friends ever. Smiling in his helmet Caboose runs up to the pair and when he comes to a stop it is to wave at the two. 

“Hello Mister…”

“Attack! We’re being attacked!” Sarge shouts, and Caboose looks around, trying to find the source of the danger. 

“Where?” Caboose asks, raising his gun and searching. “I do not think I like being attacked.”

“Él te quiere decir, idiota,” Brown Church grumbles. 

“Surrender in the name of Red Team!” Sarge shouts, raising his gun to point it at  
Caboose. “I promise we’ll make your capture very painful while you tell us all the secrets of the dastardly Blue Team! There is nothing we will not do to gain all the secrets!”

Caboose tilts his head and considers that for a moment. The only secret he knows is the pancakes. Clearly this is the secret that the Reds want. And Tucker never really said that it was a bad thing to give that away, so maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just…

“Tucker said that the secret that one should never forget…”

“Yes, yes?” Sarge prompts. 

“Genial, porque es evidente que cuentan la nada idiota,” Brown Church adds. 

“Is cinnamon.”

“Lopez, are you writing this down?” Sarge demands, turning to Brown Church even as Caboose stands there, waiting patiently for the attention to be back on him. 

“Sí. Inmediatamente. Voy a escribir esta pieza completamente legítimo de equipo de inteligencia azul. Canela. Claro.”

“Yeah,” Caboose agrees. “Cinnamon is really important. It’s magic.”

“Like the secret password the Blue Team uses for all their important intel!” Sarge continues, and Caboose really likes how excited the man sounds. And he’s right, it is important intel to know that pancakes are better with cinnamon. Really, if the Reds didn’t know that and weren’t having cinnamon in their pancakes then their team must be really super sad. 

“O se trata de una especia común.”

“With this we can finally secure our victory over those dirty Blues! Unless, of course, Caboose is lying to us about all of this…”

“Yo no creo que sea lo suficientemente inteligente como para mentir,” Brown Church interrupts, and Caboose just nods in agreement. 

“You could have a point, Lopez. There could be more Blue intel that we could get from Caboose with proper motivation,” Sarge adds, excited. His excitement is contagious. Yeah, this is the best plan ever. 

“Are we going to play games?” Caboose asks, smiling widely in his helmet.

“Sí. ¿Cuánta gente loca podemos meter en una sola base?”

“Grif! Simmons! Get out here! We’ve got a prisoner!”

Before Caboose knows it he’s deep in Red Base, sitting on the floor looking up at Simmons and Grif. They are the best of friends, and Caboose really likes it when they spend time with him as well. It’s nice to see how other best friends are. They really are amazingly amazing, and now Caboose watches as Simmons stands guard and Grif leans against a wall, helmet off, eating Oreos. That is one thing Red Team has the Blue doesn’t. Cookies. Caboose wonders if he stares at Grif long enough he will be nice and offer Caboose one since he’s playing so nicely. 

“All I’m saying,” Grif is saying, “is that what sort of ‘information’ can we really get from Caboose?” 

“Clearly Sarge has a reason,” Simmons insists, his voice high and firm. It’s a very good commandery voice. Caboose approves, and it is very good for a guard who is making sure that Caboose does what he’s supposed to and is quiet and doesn’t run away. He’s very good at playing soldiers. 

“Yeah, like he had a fucking reason to make you half robot,” Grif agrees, licking cookie crumbs off of his gloved fingers. No more Oreos. Caboose crosses his arms over his chest and pouts. It isn’t very nice to eat cookies in front of a friend and not share them. Clearly Grif doesn’t understand how to be nice. 

“I’m a more efficient soldier thanks to Sarge’s creative use of…”

“Oh stuff it. Sarge isn’t here to hear you kiss his ass, and I don’t want to lose my lunch having to experience it myself.”

Caboose turns his head to watch as Simmons sputters. Which, of course, makes Grif laugh. Grif laughs really easily and Caboose loves the sound of it. It’s magical, like cinnamon. It’s a very good noise. He even gets to see Simmons pause and tilt his head, as if to listen. 

“What’s so funny?” Simmons demands

“We’re actually standing guard over the same moron who shows up at our base every day to watch Sarge and Lopez in ‘recon’ or whatever, and you’re taking it seriously. Because we have a ‘captive’. Do you seriously think we can even use this guy as leverage? I think Church might actually pay us money to keep Caboose as far away from us as possible,” Grif chuckles. 

“Noooo… That doesn’t sound like Church at all,” Caboose answers, worrying his lips between his teeth. “Church is a really nice guy. Like, super nice. He’s my best friend. Just like you two are best friends.”

The look Grif gives him is a strange one. Disbelief and laughter that doesn’t come to his voice, but Caboose knows it all the same. And he doesn’t think he much likes it or this game anymore. So he pushes to his feet and picks up his gun.

“I doubt what you two have going on is anything like…” Grif starts to say and then he looks at Caboose and Simmons is turning to point at Caboose with his gun again and clearly things are not game time at Red Base anymore. 

“I’m leaving,” Caboose announces, but Simmons doesn’t seem to like that. 

“Prisoners can’t leave without Sarge’s okay,” the maroon soldier insists, and Caboose thinks that maybe things are going to get bad now. 

“Well hey guys!” 

“Corporal Crossanwich!” Caboose cheers as the pink soldier enters the holding area of the game. 

“Oh! Well hey Caboose! Are you, Grif and Simmons playing a game?”

“Yeah. Solders. But I don’t want to play anymore. I’m going back to my base,” Caboose tells his friend. 

“Really? Well why don’t you let me walk you there. You never know what kinds of dangers you might find in the canyon,” Donut observes, and while Caboose hears Grif and Simmons argue that it’s a box canyon and things are predictable and the Reds are supposed to be dangerous to Blues, he’s already heading out with Donut. 

Caboose and Donut walk for a while, walk right past Sarge and Lopez and slowly across the canyon. It’s getting late, or so Caboose things. Evening sun is more warm and less cheerful and more rest-like. He’s contemplating that and the strange tree in the middle of the canyon when Donut finally starts talking. 

“You know you really shouldn’t come by Red Base so much, right?” 

“Why?” Caboose asks as he carefully steps over a large rock. He doesn’t like this rock in particular, because sometimes he kicks it and it hurts his feet but today he doesn’t want to kick it. 

“Well, I don’t really get why since we’re all friends, but Sarge seems really still seems to take this ‘war’ thing serious, you know? You could get hurt.”

“Like when I lost my toe,” Caboose muses.

“Yeah like… wait what?”

“I have no pinkie toe on my left foot,” Caboose observes. “There was a lot of blood when it got shot.”

“Oh dear! Which one of us did that? It sounds like Grif. He’s a pain in my foot sometimes,” Donut sighs. “LIke when I kick his stuff. He leaves everything such a m…”

“No, it wasn’t Grif,” Caboose admits. “It was Church. But it’s okay because now I’m better. Church wouldn’t shoot me if it wasn’t for a good reason. And the nice doctor man rubbed my neck.”

“Doc gives the best shoulder rubs,” Donut agrees readily. 

They stop at the same time. Caboose mostly does it because Donut does, but he gets why. There are some chips in the rocks here from where Church took shots at Donut as Donut was bringing him back from visiting the Reds. Caboose never understood why, but it’s something that happens and so Donut doesn’t like getting closer, even if Church doesn’t hit things but rocks. 

“Well, this is the end of the train. All passengers off. Thanks for riding the Donut Express. Be sure to tip your waiters.”

Caboose laughs and waves as he heads for the entrance to the base. And there, by the door, is Church, holding his rifle menacingly toward Donut. Caboose isn’t worried. 

“Caboose did you get captured by the Reds again? How many times have I told you that you need to be unseen during recon?”

“Hello Church, it’s nice to see you too. I had the greatest day today. First Tucker made me…”

“Wow,” Church cuts him off, lowering his gun as Donut walks off, “I can’t even begin to imagine why I’d give a fuck about your day, Just get into the base and try not to get captured again.”

“Okay,” Caboose smiles. It will be dinner soon anyway. Tucker will make pancakes again because it’s the only thing Tucker knows how to make and Caboose isn’t allowed to cook since the fridge caught fire, and Church doesn’t eat anyway. There will be time to tell Church about his day later anyway. He always does when Church comes to his room at night to ‘make sure Caboose hasn’t set the place on fire’ before he sleeps. 

Really, friends are supposed to tell you stories when they come to tuck you in, but Caboose doesn’t mind it being the other way around with Church. Because in the end it gives him the time to spend with his best friend and complete his round of friends for the day. Which was always the best thing ever.


End file.
